If Love's a Set of Lyrics
by Luna Darkside
Summary: Through some ironic twist of fate, Shinichi ends up dosed with a love potion. Which would be somewhat okay, if it didn't mean everyone he met instantly fell in love with him. Kaito thinks the universe might hate him. /ShinKai & KaiShin, oneshot, complete/


_As I have absolutely no ideas, have a pile of tropes arranged into something that resembles prose! Yay!_

 _Warnings include shounen-ai, grammar mistakes / errors, lovepotion!trope, Akako and Hakuba being used as plot devices, jealous!Kaito, etc. Title stolen from "All or Nothing" by Frank Hamilton because I couldn't think of a title for the life of me._

 _Enjoy? – Luna_

 **If Love's a Set of Lyrics**

"In my defense," Akako offered weakly, "it totally wasn't my fault."

Kaito glared up at Akako from where he was cradling Shinichi's limp, unmoving, possibly dead body to his chest. His suit pants were definitely ruined, he thought ruefully. They weren't meant to stand up against gritty rooftop floor.

"That's really reassuring, Akako," he gritted out as he delicately dragged a strand of damp hair out of Shinichi's pale face. While it was a nice face, made even nicer by the fact that Shinichi's brow was finally relaxed and he wasn't wearing his usual infuriating smirk, it was still horribly disconcerting, considering that Shinichi looked extremely dead and all. "What I want to know is _what you did to him_."

"I… Didn't cause him permanent damage? It'll wear off in a few weeks?" Akako tried.

Kaito wasn't sure what his face looked like, but he imagined it wasn't very impressed.

"Right." Akako cleared her throat. "Have I mentioned that Kudou-kun doesn't approve of murder, so you shouldn't kill me or anything? Because Kudou-kun doesn't approve of murder, and you should definitely not kill me –"

" _Akako_!"

"Okay, okay, so I _may_ have accidentally dosed him with a, um, love potion of sorts," she said in a rush, squeezing her eyes shut.

"A love potion." Kaito stared. "So he's going to – wake up and fall in love with…" He tried not to say _me_ , because that would only make him feel worse about this whole predicament.

"Well..." Akako hedged. She took a small step backwards, and Kaito narrowed his eyes at her. That was definitely not a good sign. When Kaito lifted his eyebrows at her, she coughed nervously. "I mean, that was what the potion was _supposed_ to do. But when he came through the door – I dosed him because I thought he was you, but then I realized he wasn't you because he sort of kicked out at me and I panicked, okay? And my hand slipped and – and I may have given him a, um, triple dose. And also…"

"Also?" Kaito prompted when she didn't appear particularly inclined to go on.

"Also, uh, I think I may have brought the wrong love potion," she mumbled, so quietly that Kaito could barely hear her. "It's the one that makes everyone fall in love with the person who's been dosed. Not the one that makes the recipient fall in love with the first person they see. Or the one that increases cuddling skills."

Kaito gaped, at a loss. "How many kinds of love potions do you _have_?"

"That's not the point," Akako squawked, which Kaito took to mean she had more than twenty. "I have to make you fall in love with me! My honor's at stake!"

"First of all, there are _a lot_ of guys who aren't in love with you, and second of all, if you make me fall in love with you by using a love potion, I'm pretty sure that _doesn't count_." Kaito groaned and lowered his head until he could feel Shinichi's faint breathing against his cheeks. He stared down at Shinichi's peacefully shut eyelids and the dark fans of his lashes, mentally tracing the lines of Shinichi's jawline and cheekbones. Why did this kind of thing always happen to him?

It was at that moment that Shinichi's eyes snapped open and he jerked his head up, banging their heads together.

Once Kaito was done groaning and clutching at his head, he discovered at Shinichi was on his feet, backing slowly away from Akako with hands raised as his forehead slowly turned pink and faintly bruised. It would've been funny if his hands hadn't been curled into fists and he hadn't been staring soullessly at her, as if he were contemplating which of her appendages would look best mounted on a wall.

"What did you do to me?" he demanded, eyes narrowed. Akako looked mildly terrified. Kaito could relate – he had, after all, witnessed Shinichi taking down an entire crime organization while in the body of a six-year-old. As a twenty-year-old – the effect was compounded, to say the least.

Scrambling to his feet, Kaito grabbed Shinichi in a hold (that more resembled an extremely tight hug, Kaito realized with some consternation), wrestling his arms down to his sides.

"Calm down, Shinichi," he hissed into Shinichi's ear when Shinichi nearly elbowed him in the solar plexus. "You're all right."

Shinichi relaxed marginally, grasping Kaito's forearm where it lay across his stomach as he craned his neck backwards to look Kaito in the eye. Shinichi's stomach was distractingly firm and his fingers were warm and dry. Kaito tried not to be too aware of how close they were and ultimately failed when Shinichi's hair brushed his nose.

"What happened?" Shinichi was asking when Kaito managed to dislodge all thoughts of proximity and musculature. "All I remember is her dumping something on my head when I walked through the door."

"That would be the, ah, love potion," Kaito began. This time, he barely managed to restrain Shinichi's thrashing. He was about to continue when the door to the rooftop flew open and Hakuba ran towards them, mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Kudou-kun, are you all right? What's Kid doing to you?" he shouted, expression dark as his gaze flickered between the three of them – and then suddenly it changed, growing soft and fond and very, very disturbing. He was looking at Shinichi with his mouth partway open and his hands outstretched. Kaito got a bad feeling in his pit of his stomach.

"Have your eyes always been that color, Kudou-kun? May I call you Shinichi?" Hakuba sidled towards them, lowering his eyelashes demurely as he bit at his bottom lip. Kaito wanted desperately to throw himself off the building, possibly taking Shinichi with him.

"What? My eyes are always this color. And no, you can't call me Shinichi. Why would you call me Shinichi?" Shinichi stared, looking vastly confused as Hakuba continued to sashay towards them (and God, Kaito definitely could've lived without ever seeing that). He let his head tip backwards until he met Kaito's gaze. "What's wrong with him?"

Opening his mouth, Kaito started to convey that Hakuba was, you know, hitting on him because of a love potion mix-up that Akako was responsible for when Hakuba lunged forward to snag Shinichi out of Kaito's loosened grip before Kaito could stop him. Kaito gaped in horror as Hakuba had the nerve to _dip_ Shinichi, their faces horrifically close as Hakuba cooed in English, "'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art –'"

They never got to hear about what Shinichi was, because Shinichi made an inhuman screeching sound and shot Hakuba in the forehead with his tranquilizer watch. Hakuba hit the rooftop with a clunk, taking Shinichi with him. Shinichi scrambled out from underneath him, wild-eyed and looking ready to wrestle a bear. It was disturbingly hot.

"Someone _please_ explain to me what just happened," he demanded, no room for argument in his tone.

The explanation didn't go very well – trying to convince Kudou Shinichi of the whole "Akako is a witch who does actual magic, yes, magic is real" was similar to what Kaito imagined pulling teeth without anesthetic was like – but Shinichi became more inclined to agree that he had indeed been dosed with a love potion of sorts when he stormed back into the museum and was immediately propositioned and proposed to by five different members of the task force, most of whom were married and over forty. The look on his face would've been hilarious, if his shirt hadn't been ripped open, the top half of the buttons popped off completely, and his neck red and suspiciously bitten-looking because the solitary twentysomething officer apparently couldn't keep his hands to himself. It made Kaito an uncomfortably strong combination of annoyed and frustrated.

Kaito hated Akako with a passion. He told her this in the form of angry texts that he sent one-handed as he escorted Shinichi through the museum and back to Shinichi's house. He thought it was fairly impressive that he'd managed to come up with fourteen synonyms for "hate" (resent, despise, loathe, abhor, etc.) while also fighting off a woman who happened to be walking her dog in the middle of the night and later a man in a ski mask who Kaito suspected had actually been planning to mug them.

"You didn't have to do that," Shinichi remarked when they had finally arrived at his house. His voice carried in the dark stillness – it was nearly two in the morning now – and the moonlight gathered, dewy and luminous, where his eyes peeked out from behind the curtain of his hair. Kaito tamped down the familiar urge to reach up and touch his face. Instead he gave a distinctly artificial laugh.

"Walk you home, you mean?" he snorted, running a hand through his hair. "Of course I did; I had to take responsibility somehow. This whole situation is my fault." And obviously he wouldn't let Shinichi out in the streets at two in the morning when literally anyone would jump him.

"Only indirectly." Shinichi scowled at him. "I'm fairly certain it's no one's fault but Koizumi-san's."

Kaito shrugged. "I'm sure she'd say it's my fault for not falling in love with her like everyone is supposed to."

"Right." Shinichi didn't look convinced. "I don't know whatever 'magic' she thinks she has," he said, the quotations around "magic" obvious and unimpressed, "but I'm positive that not everyone is in love with her. Especially not me."

"That's what I told her. She really needs to give up on that." Kaito reached into his pocket to pull out the Blue Butterfly, which he'd managed to grab out of its display case before the whole debacle. It shone dully in the dim moonlight as he extended it towards Shinichi. "But anyway, if you really want to repay me for walking you home, could you turn that in to the police for me?"

"Why? Can't you do it yourself?" Shinichi wondered even as he took it from him and tucked into the back pocket of his jeans.

"I've –" Kaito motioned down at himself to specify himself, Kuroba Kaito, "– turned jewels in too many times. I think Nakamori might be suspicious."

The look Shinichi gave him was so flat it was nearly two-dimensional. "I'm pretty sure he's already suspicious. You look exactly like Kid _and_ you're a magician. It's pretty easy to put it together."

"It is _not_." Kaito didn't think he deserved to be criticized by someone who considered putting on a pair of glasses and a bowtie a watertight disguise.

Shinichi arched an eyebrow. "You openly own a 'Kid costume' that you've worn on multiple occasions. You and Kid are never seen in the same room, except when you rope Koizumi-san into dressing up as you, and when she does, it's kind of obvious she's not you. You've even recycled tricks –"

"It's hard to come up with new magic tricks, okay? Especially when they're of such a high caliber. I'd like to see you try," Kaito sputtered, affronted, before something occurred to him and he grinned. "Also, you just gave me proof that you're a fan."

"What?" Shinichi was taken aback.

"How else would you know I've reused tricks?" Kaito sidled closer, smirking when Shinichi's eyes widened slightly. "Do you remember every single trick I've ever done, Shinichi? Is that how much you care?"

Going an appealing shade of pink, Shinichi shuffled around and cleared his throat. "I'm just – very observant," he mumbled, suddenly entranced with the scuffed toe of his shoe. "I have. A, er. An eidetic memory. Yeah."

"Of course, my darling little tantei-kun," Kaito agreed indulgently, reaching out to ruffle Shinichi's hair like he used to when Shinichi was significantly shorter. Much as he had back then, Shinichi made vague, threatening noises and snatched half-heartedly at Kaito's hand. Shinichi's hair was just as soft as it had been back then, soft and fine and smooth to the touch. Inanely, Kaito wondered if it still smelled like the watermelon kid-safe shampoo he used to use, and then reminded himself it probably _didn't_ and it didn't even matter, because daydreaming about what your best friend's hair smelled like was Bad and he needed to Stop.

"I think I should go," he murmured, withdrawing his hand quickly. He backed up so quickly he nearly tripped over Shinichi's kitten-printed welcome mat (a gag gift from Hattori). Shinichi looked at him with a half-frown still on his face, mid-protest and clearly bewildered. There was a little wrinkle between his neatly shaped eyebrows.

But all his said was, "All right. See you later," before he turned to unlock his front door. Kaito practically ran down Shinichi's front drive, mentally chastising himself. He'd been in this situation far too long to still be messing up like this. Wasn't he supposed to be good at pretending to be other people? Why couldn't he pretend to be someone who wasn't gross and infatuated with their best friend?

* * *

Because learning how to leave well enough alone was something that had never been included in his education, Kaito found himself visiting the police station to check up on Shinichi the follow day.

Following a deduction that resolved a year-long investigation of a high-profile corporation, Shinichi had been awarded the title of Official Division One Consultant at an overblown ceremony that involved far too much liquor and pretentious French catering for Kaito's taste. He had also received a tiny office tucked into one corner of the Division One headquarters. Kaito had spent so much time in his office that he knew where Shinichi hid his emergency coffee stash (apparently none of the station's various coffee machines produced anything suitable for Shinichi's discerning palate) and how much Shinichi secretly cared for the little potted jade plant that always sat at the edge of his desk. (It had been a gift from Kaito, Kaito was pleased to note.)

Today, he navigated through the rows of desks, nodding at the inspector and a few of the other officers he recognized, opened the door to Shinichi's office, and discovered a man sitting on Shinichi's lap.

Now, Kaito had long since accepted that Shinichi probably didn't have Feelings of Nonplatonic Affection for him, and he'd promised himself that if Shinichi found someone, Kaito would move aside with grace. He would've been fully prepared to turn around and leave (and possibly go cry into a carton of ice cream) had Shinichi not looked incredibly uncomfortable and made slightly crazy _help me_ eyes as the man groped at him.

"Excuse me," Kaito growled. He felt uncontrollably aggravated as he glared at the offending man, who, upon closer instruction, was an assistant inspector, if Kaito recalled correctly. He was also young and attractive, with messy hair and nice eyes and a lopsided smile, and he had "platonically" (according to Shinichi) taken Shinichi out for coffee multiple times.

"You're interrupting," the man said now. He dragged a hand through Shinichi's hair, leaning towards Shinichi's ear to whisper something that made Shinichi's jaw go slack and his cheeks to go pink. Kaito abruptly felt irrational and angry, which was why he stalked across the room, pulled out the emergency canister of sleeping gas he always kept strapped to his calf, and sprayed the man squarely in the face. The man instantly went boneless, sprawling elegantly across Shinichi's lap. Even asleep, he somehow managed to look pretty, sort of like a fainting Victorian maiden. Kaito was simultaneously impressed and peeved beyond measure.

"Was that really necessary?" grumbled Shinichi, who had barely managed to cover his nose and mouth in time. He lowered his lapful of police officer onto the ground. Kaito was vindicated to note that he didn't seem to notice when the man's foot banged into the leg of his desk. "Hashimoto isn't so bad, really."

"Did you miss the part where he was sexually harassing you?" Kaito stared at him.

"He's technically my superior and I didn't want to offend him?" Shinichi offered weakly.

"You're a _consultant_! You don't even get paid!"

Shinichi bristled, defensive. "I'm _sorry_ if I've been dealing with people throwing themselves at me all day and I didn't feel like shoving another poor guy off me."

Kaito glared, mostly at Shinichi but also at Hashimoto, who looked like someone modeling carpets via sensual sprawling. "It's because he's hot, isn't it."

" _No_ ," Shinichi hissed, clutching at his heart and looking scandalized, but Kaito didn't miss the way he went pink at the tips of his ears.

 _I'm_ not _letting you out of my sight_ , Kaito thought with irritation. He repeated this thought aloud. Predictably, Shinichi looked horrified.

"Kaito, just because I didn't _knock my superior out_ just because he crawled into my lap doesn't mean I can't take care of myself –"

"Except you clearly can't," Kaito snapped, sitting down solidly on the visitor's chair Shinichi kept across his desk. He may have kicked Hashimoto in the side as he went, but nobody could prove anything. "You're too naïve, Shinichi. I don't want to see you get hurt when I could prevent it from happening."

For a long moment, Shinichi just _looked_ at him. Under the intensity of his gaze, Kaito felt a bit as if he'd been dropped on a slide and pushed underneath the lens of a microscope. He shifted uncomfortably. _Shinichi could've invested in a more comfortable visitor's chair,_ he thought, mostly to distract himself.

At last, Shinichi sighed and reached for the file he'd evidently been working on before he'd gotten distracted. "I know if I stop you, you'll just climb through the air ducts and watch me anyway."

"That was _one time_ ," Kaito said indignantly. One time, Shinichi had tried to go back to work a week after getting shot. Kaito still thought he had been justified in trying to do a little surveillance, considering Shinichi had indeed collapsed at his desk within a few hours of arrival. Anything could've happened if Kaito hadn't been checking up on him from the air vent. "And I saved your life."

Shinichi made a humming noise that Kaito had long since realized meant, "You're right, but I have my pride, so I'm not going to admit it."

It was at that moment that Hashimoto, still lying at Shinichi's feet, stirred. Kaito froze, his hand going for the canister that he'd restrapped to his leg, but Hashimoto just sat up, looking bleary-eyed and bewildered.

"Kudou-kun? What's going on? Did I actually… no, I wouldn't have," he murmured to himself before he looked up. "Why am I on the floor?" He yawned, looking like a sleepy kitten. Kaito despised him a lot.

"You fell asleep for a second while you were dropping off this case file," Shinichi informed him as he flipped casually through the folder, expression peaceful and unperturbed. From across the room, Kaito caught a glimpse of what looked like a decapitated corpse. "Did you have a rough night or something?"

"I – I don't think so, actually." Hashimoto carefully got to his feet, wincing. "Why does my side hurt? I feel like someone kicked me or something."

"You hit it on the table when you fell. Sorry, I couldn't catch you in time," Shinichi lied smoothly even as he cast Kaito a dark, "I know what you did and I _do not_ approve" look. Kaito tried to look innocent, even as he glared at Hashimoto's back and plotted how many different ways he could incapacitate him if he tried anything again.

Hashimoto, oblivious, laughed. "Oh, don't worry about it, Kudou-kun. You're already the savior of this police department; you don't have to be Prince Charming, too." He stretched, yawning again, and then reached out towards Shinichi. Kaito tensed.

But all Hashimoto did was smile and pat Shinichi's hand, though his fingertips lingered a bit too long for Kaito's comfort. "See you later, Kudou-kun." As he left, he gave Kaito a good-natured nod and a little wave. The door clicked shut behind him.

"Maybe I forgot to mention this," Shinichi murmured as he circled something on the page, "but the effects of the love potion seem to wear off after the first time I interact with the person. Earlier, I ran into Hakuba –" (who worked the theft department) "– and he was pretty embarrassed, but he wasn't spouting sonnets at me."

"Oh." Kaito blinked. "Well, all right. So Hashimoto won't come around and molest you again? Or maybe he could take you out for coffee or something and _then_ –"

" _Kaito_ ," Shinichi interrupted in a pained voice, setting his pen down. "What are you _doing_?"

"Whatever," Kaito muttered before sinking into a sulk.

Shinichi was still regarding him with concern when he looked back up.

"I don't know where this – protectiveness came from," Shinichi began delicately, brows furrowed, "but does it have something to do with the whole love potion thing? You should've been affected, right? Is this how it's manifesting in you?"

"No," Kaito answered truthfully. Considering he was already in love with Shinichi, he was pretty sure the love potion had basically no effect on him. He fidgeted, staring down at his shoes. "I just – don't want you to get into trouble."

"If anyone gets into trouble around here, it's you," Shinichi remarked, but he went back to his case file without further questioning.

* * *

Previous to this whole – experience, Kaito had thought he had a decent idea of how many people lived in Japan (roughly 127.3 million, if Google was to be trusted). However, he had been grossly unaware of how many of those people seemed to a) live in Tokyo and b) be extremely susceptible to a Kudou Shinichi who had apparently turned into a walking pheromone producer or hands magnet or something.

First of all, it was nearly impossible to walk down the street without Shinichi either getting catcalled or persistently hit on by basically every human they saw (although Shinichi was also mauled by someone's overenthusiastic Labrador once). Kaito had lost count of just how many people seemed to think that the "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" pickup line was an acceptable means of coming on to someone. Especially someone as gorgeous as Shinichi. Kaito almost felt insulted for him, underneath the crippling jealousy and bitterness he was pretending not to feel.

(Once, when Kaito was accompanying Shinichi to a crime scene:

"Have you got a Band-Aid? Because I scraped my knee falling for you."

Kaito scowled and tried to pull Shinichi closer to himself, but Shinichi wriggled until he caught sight of the young woman who was leering at them from a few steps away.

"You're wearing long pants, though," he informed her, adorably perplexed. "How would -?" Kaito dragged him away before he could get any further.)

Second, Shinichi got a lot of things for free, at the cost of a phone number scribbled on his coffee cup or a "call me :)))" written on a napkin. Apparently baristas, waiters, and sales clerks all believed the way to the heart of an attractive young man was through material goods. The worst part was that Shinichi always tried to pay anyway, due to his disgustingly noble morals or whatever, which only served to endear him further to the rabid retail workers. Kaito silently wondered what would've become of him had Kaito not been hovering at his side and glaring at everyone who served them.

(For example:

"For you, my dear, it costs nothing. Nothing but your love," the man announced, spreading his arms wide as he beamed at Shinichi, who was holding the front door open as he angled the man a confused look, one hand still ensconced in his wallet. Kaito bemoaned the fact that Shinichi apparently didn't realize that he looked soft and accessible when he wore loose pajama pants and a t-shirt.

"Uh, sorry, I don't really know how to pay with love," he began, but Kaito shoved past him, threw a wad of cash at the delivery man, and snatched the bag of takeout from his hands. Shinichi made a wounded sound when Kaito slammed the door shut, but wisely didn't comment.)

And thirdly, Shinichi seemed largely oblivious to the fact that everyone they met wanted to lie down at his feet and/or engage in some kind of naked activity with him. He left the top two buttons of his shirt undone and wore sweaters with wide necks that kept _sliding_ over his shoulders and low-rise jeans, because apparently that was "just how he dressed" and Kaito was "being weird and overprotective over nothing." Kaito mourned his lack of self-awareness. Didn't Shinichi realize that his collarbones were practically the eighth wonder of the world?

Everything came to a head when Hakuba asked the two of them (well, technically he only asked Shinichi, but he was intelligent enough to have realized that where Shinichi went, Kaito went also, like his obsessive, overprotective father-slash-guard-dog) out for drinks. Since Hakuba was allowed to choose where they went, they ended up in a pretentiously named minimalist bar that catered to people in their thirties who had art blogs and extensive indie film collections.

"You're looking well," Hakuba told Shinichi stiffly as he stared at a cubist painting over Shinichi's left shoulder. Kaito got the feeling that he was remembering the time he practically serenaded Shinichi with Sonnet 18. Kaito himself definitely was, at least.

Smiling faintly, Shinichi dropped the pea coat he'd been wearing onto his chair. Kaito swore the shirt he was wearing had gotten progressively looser since he'd last seen it at the police station – half of Shinichi's chest was on display. There were hints of _nipple_.

"I can get drinks," Shinichi offered, calmly ignoring Kaito's horrified sputter.

Kaito opened his mouth, about to shout at him that _no_ , the sex magnet could _damn well stay away from the bar_ , because someone was _definitely_ going to slip something into any drink he bought, but Hakuba grabbed Kaito's wrist in a way that felt as if he were trying to cut off all blood flow to Kaito's hand.

"Thank you, Kudou-kun," he said genially, even as he gave Kaito a complicated look.

When Shinichi nodded and strode off (had his hips _always_ swayed like that when he walked or –?), Kaito gave Hakuba the sharpest look in his arsenal. Hakuba, the bastard, looked blatantly unaffected. If anything, he looked slightly amused.

"What was that for?" Kaito demanded.

"Kuroba-kun, I hate to tell you this, but you're being completely and utterly awful. Let the man _breathe_ , for the love of God," Hakuba told him, one eyebrow lifted condescendingly. Kaito seethed.

"Have you _seen_ the way people throw themselves at him? It's not – it's not _safe_ ," he snapped, gesturing wildly.

"Have _you_ seen the way Kudou-kun throws them off of him?" Hakuba countered, smug as the time he'd been right about the number of trees in one specific scene from some obscure Sherlock remake and Shinichi had been wrong. (Shinichi had sulked for weeks. Kaito was still surprised that his and Hakuba's friendship had survived.)

"No." Kaito blinked at him. "Every time I've been there, he doesn't really… do anything." He narrowed his eyes. "And I've been there since it first happened. Not –" he added quickly, when Hakuba's eyes took on a distinctly evil glint, "– because I'm Kid, but because Shinichi told me what happened, and I confirmed with Akako and went to the museum to walk him home."

"Definitely," Hakuba agreed in a way that meant he wasn't agreeing at all but was willing to cede the point for the moment. "But no, there were a few times you were in the bathroom or threatening someone and someone managed to get close to him."

Kaito frowned. "What are you talking about? I took Shinichi with me to the bathroom every time I went."

"You're so –" Hakuba cut himself off, rolling his eyes in that horrific, infuriating way only he could pull off. "Just watch." He jerked his chin in the direction of the bar, and Kaito, dubious, turned to look.

He discovered that, during his conversation with Hakuba, Shinichi had been swarmed by customers of varying shapes and sizes and was looking unamused. Feeling his stomach turn, Kaito started to stomp towards them, but Hakuba grabbed his wrist.

" _Watch_ ," he instructed, and Kaito, though he worried for Shinichi's virtue, did value his left hand, and getting out of Hakuba's grasp would require that he lost it. It was like trying to escape a bear trap.

At the bar, Shinichi primly ordered what appeared to be three bourbons and one lemon drop cocktail, complete with a small army of lemon wedges that Shinichi squeezed into the cocktail. The bartender (unsurprisingly) declared them "on the house" as Shinichi's – _harem_ all clambered to pay for them. Shinichi, somehow balancing all four glasses, emerged from the crowd without looking back, sailing gracefully away like some kind of modern day god. A chorus of whining followed when he failed to acknowledge any of them. Kaito sighed with relief.

One particularly persistent suitor, however, grabbed Shinichi by bicep and tugged him towards him, leering as his gaze raked up and down Shinichi's person. Kaito fumed, preparing to break Hakuba's arm, assault charges be damned, and run over to help –

– but then Shinichi calmly turned around and threw the lemon drop directly in the man's eyes, so, well, Kaito realized that trying to rescue Shinichi might be a bit redundant.

He was also gaping unattractively at the sight of Shinichi stepping around the man (who was clutching at his face as if he'd been splashed with caustic acid, which, to be fair, it probably felt like), daintily setting the now empty cocktail glass on an unoccupied table and continuing on his merry way.

"As you can see," Hakuba intoned from where he was still holding onto Kaito's wrist, "Kudou-kun can take care of himself. He's also perfectly aware of what's happening to him, in case you actually think he's clueless."

"Then why," Kaito began, then stopped. "Then why would he – why did he let me…?"

"You can figure it out," Hakuba said, for once actually encouraging and unasshole-y. He ruined it by adding, "Although it's a little pathetic that _I_ had to lay everything out for you."

Rolling his eyes, Kaito swatted him none too gently on the head, wrenching his arm out of his hold.

"You know," he started when Shinichi was waylaid by another persistent man (this time Shinichi took him out with a single look, which, _impressive_ ), "what – what did it feel like, being in love with Shinichi?"

Hakuba made a strangled noise, but when Kaito looked at him, he sighed, resigned. "It felt like Kudou-kun was the only person I could see," he admitted in a low, embarrassed voice. "It felt like he was the only person who mattered, out of everyone in the world. It felt like – even if the world stopped and time froze and the sky fell, I wouldn't mind as long as Kudou-kun was there."

Kaito was uncomfortably torn between being grudgingly impressed (by his eloquence) and extremely irritated (because that eloquence was directed towards Shinichi).

"If you'd said that instead of that sonnet, maybe you would've gotten him," he muttered, and Hakuba glared at him just as Shinichi reached their table.

"Sorry about that," he apologized. His smile was disarming and innocent as he set the drinks on the table. "What do you want to talk about?"

 _I think you might be secretly laughing at me trying to be chivalrous_ , Kaito thought blankly, but he didn't say it. Instead, he just gave a half-hearted laugh and ran a hand through his hair and made a joke about Shinichi's new harem as Hakuba sipped his bourbon and gave him an unimpressed look.

Even if Shinichi may have been making fun of Kaito, Kaito still insisted on escorting him home. Even if Kaito now recalled that Shinichi had taken down a crime syndicate in the body of a six-year-old and was more than capable of warding off a few persistent advances. Even if Kaito now felt like the most unintelligent person to ever exist.

He thought about all of that all the way back to Shinichi's house. Shinichi seemed unperturbed at his side, smiling at him in the murky light from the streetlamps and leaning into him till their shoulders brushed and generally being awful and perfect. The more time passed, the more Kaito felt like a deflated balloon, sort of hollow and airless and sad.

By the time they reached Shinichi's house and Shinichi was walking up the front steps, he couldn't stop himself from saying, "Are you making fun of me?"

Shinichi, who had been in the process of unlocking his front door, turned to blink owlishly at him. The moonlight caught in his hair. Kaito was instantly reminded of the first night of this whole disaster, when he'd walked Shinichi home from the heist.

"What are you talking about?" Shinichi asked. The confusion in his voice seemed genuine, but Kaito still shifted uncomfortably.

"I just – you can obviously take care of yourself if you want to," he said in a rush, looking everywhere but directly into Shinichi's face. His gaze settled on a patch of yellowed grass that Shinichi's sprinklers managed to miss. "I sort of – forgot about that, I guess. But you can, and you still let me follow you around. I can't think of another reason why you'd do that."

For a long moment, Shinichi was quiet. The silence stretched on before his footsteps broke it, soft and shuffling when he approached Kaito. The toes of his shoes appeared in Kaito's periphery, coming to a stop just in front of Kaito.

"Maybe I just liked the attention," Shinichi murmured. It was so subdued and surprising that Kaito's eyes immediately jerked upwards to meet his. Shinichi was deadly serious, no trace of amusement anywhere in his face. "Maybe I liked having you around, and I didn't want to remind you because I didn't want you to leave."

" _Shinichi_ ," Kaito choked. He was unfortunately aware of how his voice cracked around the second syllable and how his desperation was probably pathetic and obvious, but he couldn't quite care, not when Shinichi was _right there_ and saying that he wanted Kaito. It was a scene that had haunted a large percentage of Kaito's dreams.

"And maybe," Shinichi continued (and was that a flush crawling up his neck?), "maybe I didn't trying to stop anyone because I liked seeing you get jealous. And maybe I wore revealing clothes because I wanted to see how you'd react." He paused for a moment, and then added, more shyly, "And maybe I'd like to know why the love potion didn't seem to affect you."

Kaito took a deep, shuddering breath. Shinichi was watching him carefully, expression open and vulnerable and trusting. It was a face Kaito doubted he showed many people.

"I… I asked Hakuba about what it felt like, being in love with you," he mumbled. "He said it was like you were suddenly the only person who mattered to him. And you – you're always like that, to me. Maybe that's why it didn't work. Because I already loved you."

Shinichi smiled like he'd given the right answer. His hands were cold when they pressed to Kaito's cheeks, but his mouth was warm when he kissed him.

 **–** **epilogue –**

"Hey there, cutie, won't you give me a smile?"

Wincing, Shinichi turned towards the source of the comment, who appeared to be a smirking young man wearing a hideous green sweatshirt. Kaito did the same, his arm tightening around Shinichi's waist.

"Sorry, no," Shinichi told the man.

The man gave him an unimpressed look. "But baby, you're just so pretty. C'mon, one smile."

Shinichi probably shouldn't have been surprised when Kaito made an angry bear sound and grabbed Shinichi by the chin – firmly, but still with a gentleness that never ceased to amaze Shinichi – and kissed him. Very thoroughly. Despite that they were in the middle of a sidewalk. And that they were receiving a lot of unappreciative looks.

"No, he won't smile for you," Kaito growled when he had finished making Shinichi's knees weak. He clutched Shinichi tightly to his side (which Shinichi was thankful for, as he wasn't entirely sure he could stand on his own). "Get the hell away from us." With that, he dragged Shinichi down the street, huffing fiercely about _manners_ and people were so _rude_ and the _young_ _people_ these days. He sounded like an eighty-year-old literature professor.

"Never gets old," Shinichi muttered under his breath, trying not to smile too widely, before he tapped Kaito on the shoulder. "Kaito? We've just passed the bridal store."

"Oh, sorry." Kaito pressed an absentminded kiss to Shinichi's temple as he steered them back towards the shop. "You know, they really shouldn't call them bridal stores. It's a bit narrow-minded, isn't it? _We're_ not brides, obviously."

"No, we're just fiancés," Shinichi murmured to himself. He smiled uncontrollably to himself as Kaito held the door the bridal store open for him, the bell over the door ringing merrily as they did.

* * *

 **Anyway, uh, hope you liked that pile of sugar even a little (if you did, please consider dropping me a review), and I'll try to post something around Valentine's Day! - Luna**


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